


Time and Again

by Aiyestel



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-25
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 12:35:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aiyestel/pseuds/Aiyestel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern-setting Dragon Age 2 fic, starring Niamh Hawke. It started out as a short project and has grown on me immensely. It continues to grow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She came awake suddenly, her mind still half asleep. She had been dreaming about a man with dark hair and even darker eyes. In her dream she had fallen and this stranger had stopped to help her up. His hand had been warm on hers as he pulled her back up to her feet with a smile that she somehow knew didn't often grace his face. She wanted to speak to him, to tell him thank you for helping her up, but she couldn't find her voice. He would never know just how much his simple action had meant to her. The memory of him faded as she came awake.

Light streamed through her bedroom window and she swore it pierced straight through her eyes to her brain. She flung herself back down into the coverlet; a ridiculous ruby thing that Isabela had picked out at some place Niamh would never shop herself.  "You could stand to add a little color to your life, Ni," Isabela had insisted when she had spread it out over the bed. She smirked at her friend, "And that thread count is nothing short of delicious."

Niamh had to give her that, the cover was insanely soft. It made her want to stay in bed all day and that was a feeling she already fought every morning from the time her alarm went off until she leveraged herself onto her feet. She knew she should get up. She had boxes to unpack and errands to run. Her car needed gas and even though she was sure there had to be some place nearby it would likely take her an hour to find it, what with her horrible sense of direction.

As fate would have it she had no sooner buried her head back under her pillows then a thunderous pounding at the side door jolted her upright and out of bed in one fluid moment. Being alone in a new place made her nervous and she wasn't expecting anyone. The pounding came again, making her jump.

"Come-on Ni! I'm not going to spend all day out here!"

She rolled her eyes and stalked across the kitchen to yank open the door. "Carver."

Her younger brother was leaning against the door frame with a paper bag in his hands and a look of exasperation written all over his face. _Typical Carver_. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Can't a brother drop in on his sister to check out her new digs and bring a housewarming gift?" he retorted.

Niamh glared up at him suspiciously. "I guess."

They stood there for a few more seconds each staring at the other until Carver rolled his eyes. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked.

"Oh, dearest brother, won't you please come in?" Niamh said sweetly.

He tossed her the bag he was holding and pushed past her into the kitchen. He folded himself into a chair at her dining room table and she took a seat across from him. The bag revealed two of her favorite cinnamon rolls from a hole-in-the-wall bakery downtown. She grinned at him, "You continue bringing these and you can come over unannounced any time you want."

She found plates and forks in a box near the sink and dished them both up.

"So I can get a key then?"

It was her turn to roll her eyes but she leaned back in her chair and pulled open a drawer. She'd had a copy of the house key made for him as soon as she had gotten hers. They hadn't always gotten on well, in fact it was only after their mother's death that they had begun to mend fences that they should have never let fall down.  

"So, are you going to tell me why you really dropped by?"

"You're so suspicious, sis. I just wanted to make sure that the house was livable," Carver said, with mouth full of cinnamon roll.

"Swallow your food before you speak," Niamh told him.

Carver took another big bite, "Make me," he taunted.

"It should be a crime to waste these cinnamon rolls by talking with your mouth full," she retorted.

He shrugged, "It should, but it's not."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "But it should."

"But it's not."

She snatched his empty plate and took it to the sink to wash. She wasn't a neat freak but ever since they had escaped their uncle's place she had found herself more and more inclined to overly clean. That hole had been one roach short of condemned.

Once the dishes were drying on the rack she turned and leaned against the counter, folding her arms across her chest. "So who called you and told you to check in on me?" _It was probably Bela, or maybe Varric. Aveline would have just come over._

"No one," Carver insisted, his voice taking on an irritated edge. "Can't a guy just visit his sister without someone having to send him?"

She held up her hands in surrender, "You're right. I'm sorry. But you do have to admit it's pretty unusual considering it's us."

His answering grin told her she hadn't sparked his temper, "Yeah, I'll give you that." He pushed back his chair and rose making her kitchen seem instantly smaller. "Well, I've got to get to work. The usual place tomorrow?" he asked.

Every Thursday night their rag tag group of friends got together at a local watering hole to kick back and share a few pitchers. "I wouldn't miss it." She rose on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, "Be safe, okay?"

Carver had started in the police force and worked his way into SWAT. The job had come easily for him and he excelled at his work. She worried for him every time he went to work but she was thankful he had found something he felt was his own.

He patted her shoulder before loping across the yard to his truck, "I always am," he replied. "See you tomorrow!"

 

 

The next evening Merrill and Niamh were sitting on the couch as Isabela went through the closet. Niamh had finally gotten all of the boxes unpacked with Merrill's help and now they were waiting for Bela to decide that what she was wearing was better than anything she could find in her friend's wardrobe.

"So tell me about this mystery man in your dream last night," she purred as she flicked through the hangers with the ease of long practice.

Niamh sighed. She knew shouldn't have mentioned it to Merrill. The girl meant well but she just couldn't hold her tongue to save her life. By now Niamh should have known better and so she really only had herself to blame.

"He's not a mystery man," she said. She had dreamt about the dark haired man again. He had been there just out of reach; a phantom on the periphery.  Just like before the dream had been fleeting but he had left an impression on her nonetheless. "It was just a dream."

"Tall, dark and sexy prances into your dreams two nights in a row and it's what--- a coincidence?"

"Did I say there was prancing? There was no prancing!"

Isabela laughed, "You're mighty defensive, sweetheart. I was only asking."

It was another thirty minutes before Isabela finished sorting through the closet and another forty after that before she declared everyone presentable. Niamh shook her head, but allowed it. This was a weekly ritual that always preceded their outings to the Hanged Man and while it sometimes exasperated her she had to admit she always looked good.

"Letting Bela play dress-up again, I see," Varric greeted her when they arrived at the Hanged Man just after eight.

Niamh looked down at her clothes, "That obvious, huh?" she asked sheepishly.

"What he means to say is you look beautiful, as always."

Anders had come up behind her and he laid a kiss on her cheek before she could react. Niamh smiled and hugged her friend. She was surprised he was here so early in the evening. He helped coordinate many non-profit groups that helped rescue and rehabilitate animals. Niamh admired his passion to see them placed in forever homes and bring the people who hurt them to justice. She could tell sometimes that the job hit him hard, but she knew he wouldn't trade it for anything. Even though his paychecks barely got him by he loved it.

He had asked her out once but the dinner that followed was more of a revelation for the two of them than a beginning. There was someone else out there for him, someone destined to be the other half of his soul. He hadn't found her yet, but Niamh knew he would. They had laughed over drinks and a long meal until the waitress had informed them the restaurant was closing. They would always be friends, but they weren't destined to be anything more than that.

"Heads up, hon!" Norah called and slid a pint down the bar to her. Niamh smiled and grabbed it before it slid right by. Cliché, she knew, but that was part of the charm of this place.

She watched Anders claim his spot at the table across from a glaring Fenris who took a break from shooting daggers with his eyes to nod her way and smile just a touch. Isabela was next to him trying desperately to worm her way into his lap, a place she would be within the next hour depending on how quickly they went through their first few rounds. Merrill was beside Varric who was shuffling a deck of cards, signaling the start to their round of wagers that generally ended with Anders and Merrill handing Varric and Isabela the only cash they had.

"You want me to deal you in?" Varric called over his shoulder, without looking up.

"Next game; I'm going to wait until Carver shows," she replied.

She eased herself onto a bar stool, shifting when her cell phone buzzed in her back pocket. She answered it without thinking. "Hello?"

"You haven't been returning any of my calls," the voice on the other end said. Niamh stifled a sigh; she had been screening her calls for a reason.

"There's a reason for that, Dean. I don't want to talk to you," she retorted.

"Please just listen. We both made mistakes. I really want to work it out." His voice was pleading.

 _This is coming fourth months too late_. She took a swallow of ale and made herself count to five. "We made mistakes? _We_ made mistakes?" She laughed bitterly. "You made mistakes and I'm sorry you're wishing you hadn't but I can't change the past and I wouldn't want to. I can't be with someone I can't trust. Don't call me anymore."

"Come-on Ni! Please!"

Her phone was plucked from her grasp. "Look, pal, she doesn't want you calling her anymore and neither do I. So take a clue and then take a hike," Carver growled and then hung up.

She looked up at her brother and was going to scold him but she actually appreciated his new found protectiveness. So instead of the quip she kept on the tip of her tongue she just smiled and hugged him. "Are you dying?" he asked.

She pulled back and frowned up at him, "Seriously? A girl can't hug her brother for sticking up for her without being terminally ill?"

"Not you," Carver retorted but his lip twitched up.  He signaled for Norah and then looked over his shoulder, "What do you want?"

For the first time Niamh noticed the man standing behind her brother, leaning casually against one of the high tables. He was tall, dark and-- _Oh, my god! It's him!_ She tried hard not to fall out of her chair as she stared at the man from her dreams.

"You must be Carver's sister," he said. He held out his hand to her.

 _Where's my voice, oh god, where's my voice?!_ She managed to smile as she reached out and set her hand in his. "Uh, yes, I'm Niamh."

Carver turned. "Yeah, sis, I figured no one would care if I brought a friend to this charade. Hope you don't mind."

Somehow over the past three years she had become the glue that held together their little group of misfits. She shook her head, "No, of course I don't mind. Not a bit! The more the merrier!"

"Ni. You're rambling," Carver said. He could care less, he was used to it.

"Uh, right, sorry. I didn't mean to carry on." She rambled like that when she was nervous and this new friend of his definitely made her nervous in a good way. She realized she was still holding his hand and she dropped it hoping he hadn't been too weirded out by her uncomfortably long handshake.

He patted her brother on the shoulder. "I put up with your brother; you'll have to do more than that to offend me."

Carver rolled his eyes, "Ugh, thanks," he muttered. The two laughed as he moved off to get dealt into the current game.

"So, I don't think I caught your name," she said, turning back to the man with a smile.

His answering smile was small, just a slight curve of his lips, like in her dream.

"I'm Nathaniel."


	2. Conspirators

It had been a long day. Time always seemed to slow when she was stuck in traffic, waiting on hold with the bank to do something as innocuous as changing her address or arguing with Carver, who for the love of all things holy, always had to have the last word. Today she had done all of those things and more and by the time she stepped into the shower she was ready to call it a night.

A pathetic whimper drew her attention to the shower door where she could see a tiny, little face pressed against the glass door watching her. She loved animals and Anders had taken full advantage of that fact. She had barely gotten off the phone when there was a knock at her front door. She had opened it to find Anders soaked almost all the way through with a puppy tucked under his coat. That same puppy now sat in her bathroom watching her while she tried to enjoy the only free time she'd had all day.

Anders was in the dog house. Boy was he in the dog house. He had known she wouldn't be able to say no to a homeless, shaking ball of fluff with the biggest eyes she had ever seen. Now she had a puppy.

 _"Why can't you keep the puppy, Anders?" she had asked even as she'd taken the puppy into her arms._

 _Her friend had ducked inside and shut the door behind him. "Pounce would never forgive me, you know that," he said, referring to the orange tabby that Niamh was quite sure ruled Ander's apartment with an iron claw. "Plus, he's going to get big and he needs a yard. Like your yard."_

 _"Why me, Anders?" she whined. "I don't need a puppy. I"_

 _"Can't come up with any reasons why you can't keep him?" Anders supplied after she had trailed off. "He needs a forever home and you need someone to keep you company. You two will be perfect for each other."_

 _The little fur ball in her arms was a squirming bundle of cute, she couldn't deny that. His cream colored fur was matted down by the rain and he could stand to have a bath, but that may have only added to his pitiable charm. She sighed, "Fine Anders, I'll take him."_

Once the water turned cold she threw on a pair of old sweats and an oversized t-shirt. She scooped up her shadow and was greeted with puppy kisses as she carried him to the couch.

A couch that was full.

"Please, make yourself at home _brother_."

Carver was sprawled across her couch. He tipped the beer in his hand in her direction. "Thanks, I will." He sat up slightly to make room for her. "Who's your friend?"

"Anders brought him," she said. "I guess he's technically the newest member of the family."

"Does he have a name?"

"Nope."

Carver snorted and took a sip of his beer. "You're content having a dog with no name?"

"I have a brother with no manners; I think I can handle a dog with no name," she retorted. She held up the puppy that wiggled and tried desperately to lick her face. "Plus, he won't be nameless forever, just until I think of the right one for him."

She gave Carver a bad time but it was only because old habits died hard. She snuggled the pup against her chest and cocked her head in her brother's direction. "How was work?" she asked.

He shrugged. It was his typical response. She knew from years of poking and prodding into his business that it meant nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Even though she could have stood to have him be a little more verbal she was more than happy to accept that he had had an uneventful day. With her only living relative being a member of the SWAT team that was all she ever hoped for.

She remembered when he had first joined; she had been as nervous as a mother seeing her child off to school for the first time, except that unlike school there was a possibility that he wouldn't come home. It had been the source of a big argument; one which resulted in her admitting that he was right, a thing that was rare and generally unpleasant for her. He had told her he was old enough to make his own decisions and live his own life. They couldn't tip-toe about their lives simply because there was risk involved.

"So I've been thinking," Carver said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.

"Wow, really?!" The snarky comment was out before she could help it.

Carver just rolled his eyes; he was used to it. "Yes, shocking I know," he retorted sarcastically. "But _anyway_ I was thinking we should start doing Sunday dinners again."

Sunday dinners had been a tradition when they were younger.  After their parents and Bethany had passed away they'd ended the tradition abruptly. It hadn't seemed the same without them. Niamh would be lying to say she wasn't surprised.

He nudged her with his foot, "Well, what do you think?"

"Just the two of us? It really won't be the same without mom, dad and Beth," she replied.

"I know it won't!" She put her hand in his and squeezed it gently, trying to tell her that she wasn't implying he didn't. He took a deep breath before continuing. "It's just I thought it'd be nice to make it a tradition again. We can invite our friends; make it our own Sunday dinner. I don't think they'd want us to stop just because they're gone."

"I think it's a great idea, Carver," she replied. Too many things had fallen into disrepair since the deaths of their parents and sister.

He looked as surprised as she felt. "Really?"

She nodded. "Really. You have to arrange it, but I'll supply the location. We can have it here."

"Deal."

 

Carver saw himself out as he usually did after they shared a few beers and watched the game. Niamh wasn't much of a drinker and while he rarely saw her drunk she often fell asleep after just a few beers. He draped the quilt over her and took the pup under his arm to the backyard before he left.

He pulled out his phone as the puppy sniffed around.

"Hey," he said when the person on the other end picked up. "It's Carver."

"Well this is kind of a surprise," the voice on the other end drawled.

"I just wanted to thank you, Anders," Carver retorted. The two didn't exactly see eye-to-eye, except in one area. Niamh.

She had been reserved ever since Bethany's death, but it had really taken a turn for the worse after her split with her longtime boy friend. They had both noticed how she kept to herself since her she had ended things abruptly with Dean. Carver was glad the guy was gone. He had seemed like a grade-A prick since they had met. His sister wouldn't tell him what had happened; only that it was over but he knew whatever had happened had been serious.

Now it was like pulling teeth getting her to come out aside from their weekly foray to the Hanged Man.

The puppy had been Carver's idea and he knew Anders would be the best one to help him out. Anders had agreed on the condition that the puppy had to be a rescue. IT had taken some time to find a miniature version of the dog they'd had as kids, but when Carver had gotten the picture of the little creature now sniffing around his feet he knew Anders had really come through. It meant a thank you was in order and though he often found those two words hard to articulate he was honor-bound to say them.

"You don't have to thank me," he replied. "You know I'd help Ni out any time."

"The puppy is just what she needed. Thanks for finding him."

Anders was silent for a long moment. "I just hope this works."

Carver sighed. "Me too."


	3. Moving Forward

"A puppy?"

The two conspirators were sitting at a high top in the back of the Hanged Man, waiting for the others to arrive for their weekly night of drinking and merriment. Nathaniel had gone to the bar for another round and returned in time to overhear a recap of what was quickly becoming an infamous puppy conspiracy.

Carver took his beer with a nod of thanks. "Yeah. Ni's been a bit of a hermit what with the abrupt end to her _relationship_ with the guy she was seeing. I don't think it's just over that, but she was getting pretty reclusive so Anders and I found her a puppy." The way he said relationship told Nathaniel that Carver didn't have a very high opinion on his sister's now ex-boyfriend. He found himself wondering if it was just Carver being protective or if the guy was really a piece of work.

Anders was drinking tonic and he made a face when he took a sip. He'd never been a heavy drinker, but in the past year he'd cut back almost entirely. When asked about it he'd say he was on callhe always had to be ready to drive to a shelter or hoarder's house. Crime didn't sleep, and neither could justice. He wanted to be prepared to go at any minute. For that he'd sacrificed his habitual couple of beers for tonic water he still didn't enjoy drinking. He stuck out his tongue in disgust and pushed the glass away. "Does the puppy have a name yet?"

Carver shook his head. "She spent two hours at some pet shop the other day buying him everything he needs and more and was heading out to a park this morning to take him for a walk when I talked to her today. At least she's getting out of the house but she's not getting any closer to giving him a name."

"Well you can't rush naming a dog," Nathaniel interjected.

"You sound like her, you know," Carver retorted. "She told me that and then she said 'I have a brother with no manners; I think I can handle a dog with no name'," he quoted, earning a laugh from his table mates.

Nathaniel clapped him on the shoulder. "She's probably right."

"Right about what?"

Isabela and Merrill had sauntered up while they were talking. Well Isabela had sauntered and Merrill had done her best to swing her hips the way her friend did, but she just couldn't get it right. She ended up tripping over her own feet and falling, right into Carver's arms.

"Oh, I swear! Look at me! I'm a mess who can't even keep her own feet under her!" she exclaimed. Her cheeks flushed red as she looked up at Carver. "Thank you for catching me."

"Uh, sure. No problem. Happy to help!" he stuttered, setting her back upright. He jumped up from his seat, "Here, why don't youuhyou can have my seat!"

Merrill smiled sweetly, "We're going to our usual table though aren't we? I mean, we'll not have room for everyone here."

Carver rubbed the back of his neck absently; it was a habit he'd picked up from his father. "Right. Of course."

If Niamh had been there she would have laughed at him. She would have locked arms with Merrill and whispered in her friend's ear and they both would have giggled, no doubt making some joke at his expense.  His sister was always dependable in that respect.

Always dependable when she was here, that is. His head shot up as he realized what he was missing.

"Wait, where's Ni?"

 

 

More pounding. Why was there always pounding? At least this time it was accompanied by the warning bark of the cream-colored puffball she'd taken to calling Pup. It was nice having someone else aroundeven if that 'someone' was a four-legged gremlin with eyes that could bend her will on a whim.

"Niamh, are you home?" a voice called as she was about to pull open the door.

 _Ahh, shit._ She had ink smudged on her hands and probably her face. She was dressed in jeans that probably should have been washed yesterday and her hair. It felt like a rat's nest so it had to look worse. There was nothing she could do to change any of that so she yanked open the door with a smile. "Nathaniel. This is a surprise!"

She had to give the guy credit. He didn't bat an eye at her appearance. He was wearing that small, sexy smile she couldn't get enough of. Oh, and jeans that totally hugged his frame in all the right places. His button up shirt hadn't been buttoned all the way and she could just see _Don't bite your lip, Ni. Look at his face. Look up!_

Right, because that was going to help. "Do you want to come in?" she asked. "I think I have a six pack in the fridge if you want a beer."

"I could go for a beer," he replied.

She grabbed two while he scooped up the wiggling creature at his feet. "So this is the nameless one I've heard so much about," he commented as they made themselves comfortable in her living room.

"That's him." She handed him one of the beers. "So what brings you to my humble abode? Not that I don't enjoy the company."

"I had to cut out early because of work so I said I would stop by since no one could reach you," he replied. "We just wanted to make sure you were alive." His voice was teasing.

She had totally forgotten about her phone. When it had died after her last call she hadn't even thought twice about it. "I totally spaced. I've been so busy all day I didn't even think about it."

"Busy with what? If you don't mind my asking?"

She couldn't remember the last time someone had actually asked about her day. Carver came over to check on her, but as far as communication went they usually stuck to topics like the weather or an upcoming game. Her other friends didn't ask but it wasn't because they didn't care. Still it was surprisingly welcome to find someone who was interested in hearing about her day.

"I've been looking for a job," she admitted. "I've been out of work for a while and with a new start I need to find a new job. I guess I got a little carried away today calling people."

His gray eyes seemed like they were locked on her face as she spoke. "What do you do? I don't think we've ever talked about it before."

She took a long pull of her beer and used the moment to attempt to gather her thoughts. "I'm a counselor. I was a grief counselor before and even did a stint overseas but my focus originally was with children and young adults and that's what I want to do now."

"Then that's what you should do," he replied. "Experience has taught me you've got to let the past go sometimes, no matter how hard it might be."

She tipped her beer at him, "You could be a counselor, you know. If this SWAT job doesn't work out for you, that is."

He laughed. "No. I think I'll leave that to the professionals. Even when I was training for hostage negotiation they told me it was best if I left that to my team." They laughed as he recalled a training exercise where he ended up getting so frustrated he'd told the would-be perpetrator that if he didn't let the hostages out he was going to come in there and really give him something to worry about.

Niamh couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed like this.

"You know I think I have a friend that might be looking for someone with your job experience," he said as she tried to catch her breath.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I think you two would be a good fit," he said. "I'll find out the info and give you a call."

"Well I guess I'd have to repay you somehow." She was acutely aware of how he leaned in towards her; of how the corner of his mouth quirked up as he considered what she said.

"Is that so?" His voice was as smooth as silk.

She couldn't think. She could barely breathe. He was so close that she could have shifted ever so slightly and kissed him.

"Uhm Yes?"


	4. First Impressions

A deceptively warm fall breeze streaked across the street sending brightly colored leaves swirling in its wake. Children laughed and danced about trying to catch them as they brushed past their faces, like the little fairies that haunted the books they kept hidden in their bags. This was just a heat wave, a brief respite from the cold that was fast approaching.

She was in the business of helping people. At least that’s what she told herself as she angled out of her car along a quiet side street. Niamh smiled at the children, she loved their energy and enthusiasm. The way they jumped and played reminded her of a time when she had been much like them; a time when she had played in the streets with Bethany and Carver. They had ridden their bikes in the street and drawn masterpieces on the sidewalk with the colored chalk that their father brought home for them in his coat pockets. That had been a long time ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

It hadn’t been that long though. The years had passed at the same pace that they had for time immemorial. Still it was wholly different now. Back then children could ride their bikes in the street without worrying about being collateral damage in a gang war over who controlled the most turf. Parents didn’t have to worry that their children would be offered drugs or abducted when they walked to a friend’s house down the block. She felt sorry for these children even though they would never understand why. This was all they had ever known, even though they should have known better.

But that was why she had come.  With parents trying hard to earn enough money in an economy that struggled to support itself children were often left to their own devices once the bell released them. Their innovation was boundless and left alone too long they often found trouble in the unlikeliest of places. In the building across the street from her those children could instead find a place where they had a better chance of avoiding trouble in all its forms while making the most of their brief childhoods.

She’d gone to school for this; put in years getting licensed and long nights of being on call for this. Bethany used to come and keep her company, sometimes in companionable silence and sometimes murmuring reassurances when a session had gone badly. She had been the younger sister, but Niamh swore she had been the stronger one. They would laugh together until the early morning hours or until she got a call from the hospital or jail.

That had all ended one rainy night when Niamh had gotten an early call that promised to be an all night ordeal. She had told Bethany in a rush over the phone not to bother stopping over. It would be the last time she talked to her sister who had died instantly when she had been broadsided by a drunk driver. It still hurt to think about that night and the days that had followed; hell, it still hurt every day.

She knew Bethany would have told her to move on with her life. _Leave the past in the past, sis,_ she would have said in her sing-song voice. _You can dwell on it all you like; it’s not going to change._ She would have been right. She _was_ right.

She slammed shut the door of her old Volkswagen and leaned against it. She knew she was stronger than this urge to get back in the car and drive home to her nameless puppy in her little piece of refuge. It hadn’t always been this way. During her internships and grad school she had been full of bravado. It hadn’t detracted from her compassion but she was ready to leap into any situation where she thought she could make a difference. Putting herself out there seemed harder now.

“Buck up, Ni,” she told herself aloud. “You’re such a whiner sometimes.”

“Excuse me? A—are you Niamh?”

The voice made her start and she banged into the car and landed in a hapless pile on the street, which caused the other woman to jump back in alarm. Niamh pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry!” the woman exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to startle you!”

Their eyes met and they both smiled. “Don’t worry about it,” she assured the other woman. “And yes, I’m Niamh.”

The woman before her wore her dark hair loose around her face. Niamh could see why the kids would take to her even after just a moment in her presence. Her green eyes were bright and warm but there was more to them. There was something deeper. She recognized it because she saw the same thing when she looked in the mirror. This woman had seen a lot in her life and she held it close to the vest.

“I’m Tahlindra. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you but I saw you standing out here and thought it might be you. I didn’t want you to think you were lost.”

Niamh rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously. “No, though I wouldn’t put it past myself. I do have a horrid sense of direction.”

She missed the silent assessment. Green eyes took in the start of dark circles beneath her teal ones. They noted the extra folds in her blouse, a sign that she had lost some weight since she had bought it. They were signs of a person struggling to keep herself afloat with all her might. They were signs Tahlindra knew well. “Why don’t we go inside?”

Niamh blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and offered the other woman a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I’m not making such a great first impression.” She had been better at this once. Still awkward, but better.

“It’s alright. It’s not easy meeting new people” It was the other woman’s turn to offer some reassurances though it seemed from the way she shifted from foot to foot that she might have been more uneasy than Niamh. “First impressions are important but so is who the person really is. Here,” Tahlindra said softly, laying her hand over her heart. “That’s where it really counts.”

Niamh pushed herself to her feet and brushed her clothes off with a small smile. “Well I’m thankful some people think so.”

 

 

 

The office they sat down in was well used. A brown tweed couch was pushed up against one wall and the presence of several rumpled quilts told Niamh just how dedicated this woman was. Hand drawn pictures adorned the walls, signed by the kids who had made these halls their haven after school let out. It was fairly quiet now, but given another hour it would be filled with the sounds of children laughing and playing as the rest of the locals schools let out.

“Sorry about the mess.” She gathered up the quilts and folded them over the back of a chair.

Niamh waved her hands, “Don’t worry about it. I grew up with two younger siblings. This doesn’t even begin to offend me.”

“That’s right. Nate told me he works with your brother,” Tahlindra said. “I have to be honest. I was surprised when he told me I should meet you.” 

It was Niamh’s turn to silently assess the woman. She had settled herself against the desk but she remained alert like she was ready to move or run on a moment’s notice. Her eyes had narrowed ever so subtly at the mention of Nathaniel like his name brought back painful memories buried just below the mask she wore so well.

“I hadn’t heard from him much since I left SWAT—” she cut herself off and Niamh suspected that she had said more than she felt comfortable saying in front of a stranger. She rubbed her arm absently, crossing her arms across her chest as she did. Niamh did the same when she was tense. “So I was really just surprised to hear from him at all, I guess,” Tahlindra finished in a rush.

Niamh had been surprised too. Nathaniel had become a regular attendee of their Thursday nights at the Hanged Man and their Sunday dinners. She found she could talk to him for hours about seemingly nothing. When they had gotten on the subject of work—and her lack thereof—he had mentioned a friend he had in the city that ran a youth program. The small smile that had played at his lips had been too distracting for her to realize what he was hinting at.

When he’d called her two days later to tell her that his friend wanted to meet her she could barely recall what friend he was referring to.

 _“Your brother never mentioned how forgetful you are,” he had teased her when she admitted she didn’t know what he was talking about._

 _“I’m not forgetful!” she protested. “You distracted me!” She found herself easily distracted by him; by that small smile that played across his face when he shared a joke or when he asked about her day._

 _He had been silent for a long moment. “I distracted you? How?”_

 _Ni! Shut your big mouth, she snapped to herself. “Um--never mind—so, what time did she want me to come over?”_

She had felt like a class-A fool when she’d hung up from that call. Still she found herself here, talking with Nathaniel’s friend about her work at the inner city outreach program. When she talked about the program and the kids the nervousness fell away.  It told Niamh just how much love she had for both. After years of grief counseling it seemed refreshing.

“I have to be honest,” Tahlindra said sometime later after all the formalities of an interview had been addressed. “I think you’d fit in here…”

Niamh heard the _but_ the other woman omitted. It made her stomach clench as she imagined the worst. “ _But_?”

“But, the pay isn’t the greatest and the hours can be long. I mean, we have set hours but this job doesn’t really lend itself to them.” She had been at this for close to a year now. She had known searching for someone that fit in here would be tricky, but she hadn’t figured it would be this exhausting. She had long since given up on finding the perfect fit. Now she was just looking for the best possible fit that would actually take the position. She was ready to find someone that would stick around for a while. It would do wonders for the kids to have a familiar face that they could rely on and it would be a blessing to her own nerves not to have to adjust to a new face walking into her office every other week.

“It has been hard to find someone willing to stick around,” she admitted. 

Niamh found herself relieved that it hadn’t been something along the lines of _“…but I don’t think it’s going to work out”_. She could deal with long hours and minimum wage. If she could find a new purpose here than the money was only a small consideration; “I don’t mind either of those things.”

Tahlindra seemed relieved but still wary and Niamh couldn’t blame her. If she’d had as many people walking in and out it would take time and commitment to show her that she meant what she said. “I’m glad you’re interested.  Don’t’ take it personally, but it’d ease my mind if you slept on it. If you’re still interested tomorrow, give me a call.”

The two walked back down the call and into the street as an old, yellow school bus rumbled to a stop at the curb. Kids laughed and called their greetings to Tahlindra as they dashed past.

“Thanks for your time today, Tahlindra,” Niamh said with a smile when the last of the children had disappeared through the doors. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”


End file.
